


Your Bruised Cheek, My Broken Knuckles

by Bisexual_Bean



Series: Catch You, Help You Heal [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: About how Tim was treated, And he is getting it!, As Robin, Brotherly Love, Hurt/Comfort, I WILL THROW HANDS, I will never stop being salty, Jason Todd is a Good Big Brother, Just two dudes being BROTHERS WHO LOVE EACHOTHER, Protective Jason Todd, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tims sad and needs help, slowly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:46:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexual_Bean/pseuds/Bisexual_Bean
Summary: "How long have you been down here?"Tim jumps at the new voice, shaky hands reaching out and steadying the punching bag in front of him. He bites his lip.Shit.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Catch You, Help You Heal [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904848
Comments: 11
Kudos: 559





	Your Bruised Cheek, My Broken Knuckles

"How long have you been down here?"

Tim jumps at the new voice, shaky hands reaching out and steadying the punching bag in front of him. He bites his lip.

_ Shit. _

The voice behind him clears their throat and he keeps his eyes on the bag in his hands. Maybe if he doesn't move Jason can't see him.

He doesn't even have to look at Jason to know the man has a hand on his hip, similar to a parent ready to scold their child. Tim guesses he has a reason to, seeing as he wasn't even suppose to be down here.

But in his defense, Jason wasn't suppose to be home for at least another hour either.

Its been about a month since that night on the roof, since Jason took him in and began, essentially, babying him in any way possible. Force feeding him three meals a day, limiting his coffee intake, making him get (at least) 6 hours of sleep a night.

Jason's even kept pretty regular contact with Tim. Something about him being touched starved, with he is _definitely not_ (No matter how much he might lean into the small touches or hugs).

But that also meant a whole month without Red Robin. So, when Tim mentioned the fact that he's been slacking, that the training exercises he did every morning haven't been enough, he suggested joining Jason on one of his patrols.

The idea was shot down pretty quick.

But then Jason showed him the basement of the apartment building, of which he had decked out and transformed into a full gym/mini cave (As much as Jason insisted otherwise). He said Tim could train, could spare, so long as he was down there to supervise.

So yeah, Jason returning home early from patrol only to see Tim (Who was suppose to be asleep) going at it with a punching bag?

Tim could see where he was coming from.

He cleared his throat, tried not to pay much attention to his bruised (and maybe just a little bloody) knuckles, "I-"

"Kid," A deep sigh, Tim shivered, "Have you been doing this every night I've gone out?" Jason's tone was calm. It was always calm when he spoke to Tim. But this time there was a sense of aggravation in the tone, causing goosebumps to scurry up his arms and down his legs and his heart began rapidly beating in his chest.

He heard shifting behind him, twisting towards the sound quick enough to catch Red Hood taking a step towards me, cold eyes of the helmet piercing into his soul.

It caused him to take a step backwards to keep space between them. There was another sigh, this one sounding more frustrated, and Tim lowered his eyes to the mat at his feet. Jason had been really nice so far. Patient and relaxed. He knew he was going to set him off one way or another eventually. Maybe he won't rough Tim up to badly before sending him back to the streets...

Or to the manor.

There was a nearly silent hiss from Hood's side of the room, taking off his helmet if Tim had to guess. Maybe the man wanted to look him in the eye when he punches him?

"Tim?"

Tim raised his eyes and suddenly Hood was _right_ there, white lenses staring him down.

He doesn't touch Tim, which is confusing. Hood normally doesn't wait around to throw the first punch. He's always been more of a 'punch first ask second' type of guy.

So why is he watching Tim like he's a stranger? Does he want to see Tim struggle first?

Hood's opening his mouth and before Tim can even think the action through he's punching the man across the jaw, making sure to put his weight into it.

After, Tim holds his first close to his chest, watching Hood take a few unsteady steps back, gloved hand raising to touch his cheek. He seemed to be thinking through his next move, but Tim doesn't give him enough time to follow through, leaping forward and aiming a hard kick to his right side, managing to put enough force behind the kick to push Hood flat onto his back.

"Ok..." Is growled out from the man on the floor and Tim tries to calm the pounding in his chest, relax his breathing, regain his footing.

Then Hood sits, actually _sits_ up on the mat, eyes of his mask watching him.

"I was wondering when this was going to come up," The words sound tired, stressed, and Tim clenches his fist as Hood reaches up, his mask slipping from his face easily, only wincing when the last of the adhesive pulls on the skin of his cheek.

Tim takes a spacious step back.

Because now it's Jason in front of him, concern and worry bleeding into his stare. His cheek is slowly blooming in color, from something _Tim_ did, and he's pressing a hand to his side.

"I should have taken the hood and mask off before coming in. I'm sorry Tim," The apology hits his chest and spreads like a wild fire. Jason shouldn't be apologizing right now. It was Tim's fault. He acted without thinking. If he had just _thought everything through like he had been taught-_

"Hey," There's a soothing voice in front of him. Tim wonders how he ended up on his knees, "It's ok. We both know how stressed you get about the hood," Of which was discovered when Jason was giving him a tour of his cave. He had stepped away for just a second, before hearing a scream and finding Tim on his butt, pushing himself away from the display case holding an older version of Jason's suit.

He _knew_. Tim knew he got stressed. But he also knew it was still Jason underneath. The man hadn't raised a single hand towards him the whole time Tim's been here, going as far as to ask Tim or at least give him warming before he even touches him.

There are (now ungloved) hands in his vision and Tim's nodding out of pure instinct alone, relishing in the touch as Jason tugs him forward and against his chest, both of them sprawled out awkwardly on the floor.

"I...I'm sorry..." He's murmuring and Jason just shushes him, hand smoothing through his sweaty hair.

"Hey, hey, what did we talk about? We're going to work through it ok?" There's a cheek pressed against the crown of his head, he thinks they're rocking.

Tim nods, because he knows that's what Jason wants, and Jason pulls back enough to wipe some of the tears on his cheeks away.

"Is speaking ok?" He questions, voice humming through Tim's skull, and Tim gives another nod, stronger this time.

"Then I want you to say that it's ok you acted like this."

"But it's not..." Jason doesn't interrupt him, something Tim's grateful for, "I knew it was you the whole time...I thought...I thought..." And then he's sniffling again, fumbling hands attempting to wipes the new wave of tears away and hissing when his knuckles brush against his face.

Jason's voice is soft when he speaks, "You thought I was going to kick you out."

Tim leans more into Jason's hold, cheek pressing against his shoulder, "I'm sorry! I shouldn't be down here without you, I just..."

"Tim, kiddo, you're not in trouble. But working yourself to the bone isn't going to help you get better."

"But I need to get better. I need to get better," The words were a mantra on his lips.

Batman wouldn't stand for anything less than perfection in his Robin. Someone who could be trusted not to get themselves killed, to put Bruce through more anguish. They had to be smart, strong, flexible, quick witted, light on their feet. They couldn't be shying away from the smallest thing, or give up just because things get to hard or to fast for him to keep up with. He had to hit harder, be faster.

And his parents would never settle for anything less than the ideal heir. Someone who they could rely on to one day take the company from them, take it to new and thrilling heights. Someone they could trust to deal with all of their issues and busy themselves with more important things. He had to skip grades, impress both teachers and the upper class, focus on school, learn the rules of a gala, be polite, be pristine, charm the ladys, gossip.

He had to be _perfect._

How would they look at him now? Cowering into his predecessors arms, crying because of a stupid helmet?

"Tim," Hands are on the sides of his face and carefully forcing him to look up. Jason's gaze is stern, teal eyes holding to much emotion for Tim to pick apart at once, "Don't get lost in that big brain of yours. I need you _here._ Are you here?

Tim feels the flats of his palms press into the mat below them, he takes a deep breath.

"I'm here."

"Ok," Jason moves his hands up and around Tim's hears until he can rest Tim's forehead against his shoulder, "This is not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. You _will_ get better, but getting better takes time Tim. You need to be willing to give yourself that time."

He tries to focus on his breathing, tries to focus on the feeling of Jason's arms around him, of the ground beneath him.

"I don't know how..." He admits, and his chest feels like a weight has both been lifted off and added to it at the same time.

"That's ok," The words send a wave of relieve rushing over him out of no where. Because if Jason says it's ok, Tim trusts that it's ok. Jason wouldn't lie to him. Not about this.

After a few more minutes of Tim steadying his breaths, Jason stands, helping Tim to his feet. The older of the two winces as he shifts his side, and Tim fights the urge to apologize again.

"I have a feeling you haven't been getting as much sleep as I thought you were," Tim bites his tongue, hands balling into fists until Jason presses his thumbs to his wrists as a grounding pressure, "I didn't expect you to, you are a coffee addict after all, and a vigilante. I just figured you were doing things in your own room, not breaking the skin of your knuckles down here with a punching bag."

Tim nods, accepting the words for what they were, and allows Jason to lead him upstairs. Allows Jason to clean up his knuckles and send him to the guest room to change into pajamas.

By the time he's dressed popcorn is popping in the kitchen, and a boring documentary is already playing on the tv.

Jason's smiling at him and it feels wrong. He shouldn't be rewarding Tim's bad behavior with popcorn and movies. Shouldn't even be willing to be anywhere near him after he broke a rule.

Knows he would be locked in his room for days if it were his parents here instead of Jason. Or benched from patrol and shunned from the manor if it were Bruce.

But instead, Jason's setting a bowl of popcorn down on the end table, fetches his favorite soft blanket from his room, and settles down.

Tim stares, dumbfounded, and Jason pats the spot next to him."

"What kind of punishment is this?" He was whispering, but Jason caught the words.

"This isn't a punishment Tim. This is me trying to get you to relax and hopefully get some sleep tonight."

"Aren't you tired?" Jason had just gotten back from patrol when he found him. He has to be covered in bruises (aside from the ones Tim gave him), his legs must be sore from landing again and again on concrete roofs. He cant be comfortable.

Jason shrugs, "I'm taking an old page from the big brother book."

The words actually catch Tim off guard and he swears the air left his lungs. 

_Big brother. Big brother. Jason considers himself my big brother._

Jason seemed to notice his mistake (is it really a mistake?) as he holds his hands up in surrender. The look Tim is giving him must be nerve wracking, because Jason's bouncing his leg, something he only does when he's anxious.

"Sorry, that was stupid to say. We can both just go to bed if you really don't want to do this. I should have asked before just assuming you would want to sit on the couch with me after that," There's the smallest hint of fear hiding in his eyes, and Tim rubs his hand against his arm before shuffling to the other end of the couch and settling in.

"Its ok...I..." A pause, "I'm fine with it," Tim's eyes lock on the wall next to him, "Being your little brother sounds nice..."

"Yeah," He can hear the smile in Jason's voice, "So does being your big brother."

Tim gives in and the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly. He pulls his feet up onto the couch, tugging a corner of the blanket enough to cover his lap.

Tim thinks. He thinks of what his parents would say if they saw him now. Frustrated, annoyed, disgusted, ashamed.

Bruce would probably be similar. Tim, a past Robin, willingly considering Jason, a dead robin, a brother. Who stands against everything Bruce is, that goes against everything Bruce taught him. Forced into his skull from their first meeting.

Tim wonders what Bruce must have been like before Jason's death. The way Dick used to poke and tease him while Tim trained...there was a softness there that Bruce didn't hold with anyone else. He wonders if Bruce had that same softness when Jason was around. He certainly thinks so, if the grins and laughter and jokes he caught on camera said anything.

With Tim...he was so stern. So cold. And at first Tim could understand. The aura of grief that always surrounded him, the name slips when he would call Tim 'Jason' instead, and Tim wouldn't correct him in fear of the stricken look Bruce got the first time he did.

The silence of the manor when Tim would arrive early, and then the eerie tension after each patrol.

How Bruce would send him home, night after night, and Tim would return to a cold empty house that was never even touched by a scrap of affection.

"Stop thinking so loud," Jason sighs, and suddenly there's heat pressing against his side. Tim lets himself be pulled into the embrace, melts against the hand rubbing his back.

Dick tried being a big brother, the big brother Tim didn't think he could ever have, the big brother Dick always wanted to be for Jason.

But it never felt right. He never felt safe and protected like they always described in the books.

This?

This felt exactly like that. Even with their past history, Tim knows for certain that Jason would never cause purposeful harm to him. That Jason truly cared for his well being. 

Not because he was Timothy Drake, heir to the Drake fortune and past CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Not because he was Robin, and could solve riddles and cases even the legendary Batman struggled with.

But because he was Tim.

Just Tim.

He smiled, and curled closer to Jason's side.

It feels nice to have a big brother.

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely not my favorite of the bunch, but I wanted to have a sort of time jump in the series, of which will probably be happening quite often instead of the day to day the first three were. I hope you enjoy, and let me know if I missed anything!


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